


A Real Boy

by ronsparkyspeirs



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Zombie Apocalypse, Eventual Romance, F/M, Friendship, Growing Up Together, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-04-08 01:30:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19096990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ronsparkyspeirs/pseuds/ronsparkyspeirs
Summary: Daryl Dixon grows up with the Greenes.





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

_I've got no strings_  
_To hold me down_  
_To make me fret_  
_Or make me frown_  
_I had strings_  
_But now I'm free_  
_There are no strings on me_

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

He’s seven and a half and his daddy has just given him one of the worst beatings he’s ever gotten. Daryl is walking down the road, limping, and bloody shirt stuck to his back, he’s not even crying anymore because he realized early on that it didn’t matter if he did, his pa would stop hitting him when _he_ wanted.

He’s walking down to the river, sun beating on his head,  he just wants to see the fish jumping and maybe a turtle or two when he hears the sound of a truck driving up. The truck is big and blue and it’s slowing down, Daryl thinks about running off into the woods but the person who’s driving has probably already seen him anyways.

The truck rolls to a stop next to him and a blonde girls head pops up from the window, she has blue eyes like him but her hair is in pigtails and she looks clean.

“You Will Dixons boy?” The man driving asks, and Daryl just stares at him because in the past whenever someone’s asked him that it’s because his daddy owes them money or has done something else that makes them equally as angry.

“This is Beth, my daughter,” the man says, and the girl waves, “Hop in, we’ll get you cleaned up.”

Daryl’s not stupid, he knows he’s not supposed to go with strangers, but what can this man do to him that his daddy hasn’t already? So he shrugs and opens the door, wincing when he has to climb up.

The girl scoots over and she hands him a half drunk juice box, “You thirsty?” She asks.

He nods and drinks the rest of the juice, not bothering to look at either of them.

“My name’s Hershel, we’re going to go up to our farm if that’s okay with you, my wife will be there and so will my two other children.”

Daryl shrugs again, they could be taking him to be sold off to the circus for all he cares, anything would be better than returning to that beat up old trailer he calls home. And besides, he knows this man, well sorta. He knows he’s the town’s vet, and he knows that he always goes to church with his whole family. Him and his pa had seen them a couple of times in town, Daryl scurrying after his dad after a long trek in the woods, a deer across Will Dixon’s shoulders.

People stared, they always stared, but Daryl had seen the vet, laughing and carrying a little girl in his arms. And for a couple of minutes, Daryl had been so jealous and angry, practically seething with envy, that is, until his pa had scuffed the back of his head for lagging.

“Come on, boy,” his dad had said, voice raspy, “you’s gonna be in charge of skinning this buck.”

And then all other thoughts had been swept away from his mind, he had grinned, sweaty and dusty, he had smiled at his pa.

“Really?”

He had never been in charge of skinning a buck before, he’d seen it done a million times, he knew exactly what to do but he had never been allowed. He’d turn seven two weeks back, and he thinks it’s his dad’s way of saying happy birthday.

“Sure,” his dad spat, “ya almost a man now, and Dixon men know how to do this with they eyes closed.”

That night, as they ate deer stew, with cold bottles of coca cola, his dad had ruffled his hair, “You done good, boy,” he’d said.

He feels sad when he thinks about that day, he doesn’t understand why his pa had to be so mean when he could be nice, but any thoughts over that day are forgotten quickly as the breeze from the open windows hits his face. It feels nice and he doesn’t realize he’s been nodding off until the truck makes a turn, a big, white house on the horizon.

When the truck stops in front of the house, a lady comes outside, her hair is dark like his mama's used to be but he doesn’t see any bruises on her face or arms. She has a blue apron on and it’s Daryl’s favorite color.

Hershel steps out from the truck, his arms lifting the girl up and out of the cabin, he goes around and opens the door for Daryl, his arms to lift the boy up, to help him off but Daryl snarls, “I can get out by myself.”

He lets out a sound when he hops down but no one says anything, he can feel his eye swelling shut but he can still see the woman coming down the porch steps, she smiles at him, brushes the hair away from his face and delicately cups his bruised jaw, “You’re Daryl aren’t you? my name’s Annette, I’m Beth and Shawn’s mom.”

“My daddy beat me this morning,” he tells her, he’s not sure why he even says anything, she didn’t ask and he’s never ever told anyone about it before. He gets a sick feeling in his stomach, he just told on his own pa, immediately, he wants to take it back, he doesn’t want his dad to get in trouble. He wonders if he’s going to go to jail like Merle has done so many times.

But Annette doesn’t say anything, she just bends down and presses a kiss against his forehead, it makes Daryl flinch a little, “You can stay here for as long as you want okay? And no one’s going to hit you.”

“Not even if I break something?”

“Not even if you burned the whole barn down,” she responds, “although that would make us very sad.”

“Do you want to come inside, where we can help you get cleaned up?”

Daryl chews on his lip, fidgets from one foot to the other, his shirt is already sticking to his back and he knows it’s going to hurt like hell when they have to peel it off, “A’right.”

She leads him inside, Hershel and the girl following behind. The sounds of running footsteps have him looking up to see two other kids, a little older than him, a boy and a girl. The boy has hair like him, dark blond and combed to one side, the girl has dark hair and eyes like a cat. They look at him and Daryl gets uncomfortable, they’re not making any faces and they haven’t said anything, but he’s a stranger in their house, dirty and stupid, he wouldn’t want him there either.

“This is Daryl, he’s going to be staying with us for a while,” Annette says, she lays a hand on his shoulder, “Daryl, this is Maggie and Shawn.”

Shawn rolls his eyes, “Finally! Another boy to play with,” he says and Maggie shoves at his shoulder.

“Yeah, but he’s little, he’s not going to want to play your dumb games.”

“He will too!” Shawn almost shouts, and Daryl is surprised when neither Hershel or Annette reach over to smack him in the head for being too loud. “You like cars don’t you?” He asks Daryl, “and bikes?”

“Never had a bike before,” Daryl says.

“See, he will too like playing with me,” Shawn tells Maggie.

“Well, I want to play with Daryl too!” The little girl, _Beth_ , says, and then Daryl doesn’t hear much else because Annette is leading him up the stairs, she opens the door to a room and it’s the prettiest thing Daryl has ever seen. White walls, a big bed with green sheets, a window that lets in a bunch of sunlight, and most of all, everything is _clean_ , it doesn’t smell like cigarettes and nothing’s laying around broken on the floor.

“This is the guest room but we can decorate it however you want,” Annette tells him.

For one second Daryl lets himself believe that this is actually real, that he can stay with these people and never have to nurse a cut or a bruise, that he never has to add another scar to the many he’s collected over the years, he lets himself believe that he can be a real boy with a real family.

“I can’t stay here,” he tells Annette, quietly.

“Nonsense! You will if you want to,” she responds, sounding so sure of herself that Daryl almost believes her.

“My pa, he’ll come for me.”

Annette bends down, kneeling on the floor in front of Daryl, she grabs hold of his hands and Daryl can’t keep his eyes on her. “You are the bravest little boy I’ve ever met, and you don’t have to go back there anymore, _I promise_.”

“What ‘bout Merle?”

“Your older brother?”

He gives her a brief nod of the head, and she smiles back, “We’ll find him next time he’s in town, we’ll let him know where you are and we can go from there, is that okay with you?”

No one’s ever asked him what he thinks about anything and he doesn’t know what to say, he’s still scared his daddy will come for him but he’s so tired, all he wants to do is sleep and take a hot shower.

“Y’all got hot water?”

Annette nods, “I’ll get you some of Shawn’s old clothes, and some bandages too,” she says.

After his shower, and after he lets Annette clean the wounds on his back, and puts ice on his eye, he puts on a pair of fresh pajamas and Annette tucks him in. He doesn’t think someone’s ever tucked him in, maybe his mom, but he must have been a baby so he can’t remember. Then he sleeps.

He sleeps like he hasn’t for years, on his stomach under soft sheets that smell like detergent. It’s summertime but the windows are open and the breeze flows in, when he wakes up, hours later, he hears laughter coming from downstairs. For a moment he thinks his daddy has finally killed him and maybe he’s in heaven because there’s no way the Dixon house has mattresses this soft.

But then there’s a soft knock on the door and a blonde head is popping in. “Daryl, are you up?”

She walks into the room, her hair frizzy around her face, “Dinner’s ready, if you want to eat,” Beth tells him, all wide smile with two missing teeth.

Slowly he gets up because he realizes he hasn’t eaten since the night before, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. And his tummy is feeling hollow like it does more often than not. Beth grabs hold of his hand, grinning, “You don’t have to go potty do you?”

He shakes his head.

“Good, because mama made peach cobbler,” she says, as she tugs him down the hallway and towards the stairs.

 

 

 

 

 

 

  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merle makes an appearance and Daryl gets a glimpse at a normal life.

 

 

_Hi-ho the me-ri-o_   
_That's the only way to go_   
_I want the world to know_   
_Nothing ever worries me_

* * *

 

 

That night he eats till he feels he’s about to burst, he feels like throwing up a little but he does his best not to. He even has a serving of peach cobbler pie, it’s almost too much and he doesn’t care that he hardly chews or puts his elbows on the table, Beth stares when he talks with his mouth open but he can’t ever remember eating something so good, and without someone telling him that he can’t have any more.

Annette gives him a glass of milk to settle his stomach and he almost falls asleep right there on the table. And then, he doesn’t care that he slept all day, he falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.

The next morning he wakes up to a busy house, it’s still early out, closer to dawn but the people inside are up and awake. He goes downstairs and only Beth is sitting at the kitchen counter, “Shawn and Maggie are feeding the horses,” she says, as she stirs her cereal in the bowl.

“Where’s your ma?”

“She’s helping daddy with the pigs, they don’t let us into the pig pen anymore on account of the accident,” she tells him, her face serious.

“What accident?”

“Maggie and Shawn were playing in there one day, and Shawn tried to ride one of the piglets, well, the mama pig got mad and almost took a chunk out of his arm,” Beth says, her mouth grinning even with two missing teeth.

So, stay clear from the pigs. Got it.

Just then the back door swings open, Annette and Hershel come inside, both wearing coveralls and long boots. “Daryl, I’m so glad to see you up,” Annette says, “how about some breakfast?”

He shakes his head, his tummy isn’t used to so much food and the thought of eating makes him feel sick, “I ain’t hungry.”

“How about an apple then?” Hershel asks, but Daryl stays silent, he’s not sure what’s considered back talking in this house and he doesn’t want to get in trouble.

“Orange juice?”

His shoulders curl in on themselves when he shrugs, but Hershel only smiles, he goes to pour him a glass and Beth jumps down from her seat.

“Mama, can Daryl come help me with the chickens?”

“Only if he wants to.”

Beth turns to him, her blonde hair in a ponytail, “You wanna help me feed the chickens?”

He nods, then drinks his juice in almost one gulp, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and Beth skips out the door. Daryl places his glass in the sink and runs after her.

Beth is already in the chicken coop when he makes his way there, a brown basket in one hand and the bucket with the feed in the other, “You feed them while I get the eggs, okay?” She says.

He’s not exactly sure what to do, since he’s never had chickens to feed but he can try, he digs his hand into the feed and starts walking towards the chickens, they seem to know what he’s about to do and start crowding against him, Daryl would be a liar if he said they didn’t make him a little nervous.

“Just sprinkle it on the floor,” Beth tells him, “they’ll eat it.”

He throws it on the ground and the chickens start eating, he stands there looking at them and he almost laughs because they look funny, with their heads and the weird noises they make.

Once they’re done in the coop, they go inside the house to give Annette the eggs, she dismisses them and tells them they’re free to play until supper time. Beth grabs his hand and pulls him outside, Daryl feels his face getting hot, he’s never had a girl hold his hand before. But he’s also never met anyone as bossy as she is, she kinda just tells him to do things and he does them. He’s only been at the farm for a day and the whole time he’s gone along with whatever she says.

They go out into the field by the house, far from the barn where Shawn and Maggie are feeding the horses but close enough for Hershel to keep an eye on them, who’s tending to some calfs. Beth turns around, drops his hand and says, “I wanna play princess, you’re going to be the prince alright?”

Daryl tugs at the hem of his shirt, he doesn’t really want to play princess, but he thinks if he says no she might start crying or something.

“Okay?” She asks, again.

“Don’t wanna be the prince,” he shrugs.

Her eyes get wide and her mouth falls open, “Then who’re you going to be?”

“I wanna be the dragon.”

Beth giggles at that, “You can’t be the dragon, Daryl.”

“Why the hell not?” He asks, scowling, if she can be the princess he can be the dragon if he wants to be.

Beth gasps, her hands going to her mouth, “You said a bad word!”

“So?”

“Mama says cursing is bad, you’ll get in trouble if she hears you!”

Daryl feels his face getting hot, his daddy was always cursing and so was Merle, he didn’t know it was such a big deal and now he feels stupid.

“And anyways, you can’t be the dragon because dragons are ugly are you’re not ugly!”

“Don’t care, I still wanna be the dragon,” he says.

Beth rolls her eyes, “Fine, but you gotta give me a head start because I’m not as big as you.”

He nods, that’s fair enough. And then Beth is off, running towards the barn and disappearing behind it, Daryl follows, making growling noises so she knows he’s coming. She’s fast, faster than he thought she would be, but she’s also clumsy, her feet sliding through the grass and her arms swinging uncontrollably as she tries to regain her balance. Daryl almost catches her and Beth shrieks with laughter.

His hand grazes her back but that only makes her speed up, she runs for Hershel in the distance, “Daddy!” She shouts, coming up on Hershel and latching on to one of his legs, “daddy! Daryl’s the dragon and he wants to eat me!”

“You’re going to have to be faster, doodlebug,” Hershel tells her, smiling when Daryl starts stalking her, they go in a circle around Hershel’s legs and then Beth is off like a rocket.

Daryl chases her all the way back to the house, she’s running up the porch steps when he finally catches up to her, he grabs her like Merle did when they used to play together. From behind with his arms around her middle, Merle used to pretend he was a bear and chase Daryl around their trailer. Beth yells like she’s being strangled, and Annette comes running out just as they tumble over onto the wooden slats of the porch floor. Daryl takes the brunt of it but Beth still whines when they hit the floor.

“Beth Greene! What in the world are you doing?” Annette asks, she looks angry but somehow it’s not directed at Daryl.

Beth untangles herself from him, her face red and sweaty, “Nothing mama, we were just playing.”

“What did I tell you about rough housing?”

Beth makes a face and Daryl stands up too, “Are you okay, Daryl?” Annette asks.

He nods and she turns back to the little girl, “Now don’t you go getting Daryl in trouble you hear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Beth mutters.

“And you, Daryl Dixon, don’t go listening to everything this one says, last year she broke her arm playing rough with Shawn, be careful alright?”

He nods and doesn’t tell her that he broke his arm too last year, he and his pa had been up on a perch, hunting a buck when in the middle of the night Daryl had fallen asleep, and tumbled down from the trees. He had landed on his left arm and his daddy had been spittin’ mad, took him to the doctor only because his arm had started turning black.

And that’s how the days go by, it’s summertime and they don’t have to go back to school for a least another month. Hershel and Annette said they’d be going to buy school supplies towards the end of their break, and that included him. He gets up early and helps Beth feed the chickens and do any other chore they can around the house. Hershel said he could start helping with the horses once he got bigger.

They go to church every Sunday. And it’s kinda boring and Daryl spends most of the service just staring off into space, or squirming in his seat, but sometimes he likes it. Like when they sing, it’s real nice, but he doesn’t know any of the words so he just sits there and listens.

But most days him and Beth spend playing, it’s a lot of fun. Even if she is a girl, and she likes playing with dolls sometimes but still, he doesn’t have to worry about going hunting for a rabbit or a squirrel to eat because there’s always food in the house. And his clothes always get washed, and he really likes digging his hands into the pile of freshly laundered clothes when they’ve just come out of the drier. But the best part of it all, is here, no one ever hits him. Nobody even yells at him. The couple of times he’s gotten in trouble for cussing Annette or Hershel will explain why he shouldn’t be doing it, and then they put a hand on his shoulder or Annette will give him a hug, and tell him he’s a good boy.

One late night he hears the loud engine of a familiar truck, he can hear the music blasting from the windows all the way up in his room. He hears his pa getting out of the truck, yelling up a storm, he’s drunk and Daryl gets scared. He hasn’t been around town, least, they haven’t seen him; sometimes his dad did that, went off for a couple of days, or a week, sometimes a lady would come back with him. He goes to hide in the closet and from there he can’t hear much of anything, just his daddy cussing and shouting like a crazy person.

He knows that at some point, probably Hershel goes outside because he doesn’t hear anything else from then on, he stays in the closet though, just to be safe. Hershelf find him in there an hour later, fast asleep, he carries Daryl to his bed and tucks him in.

The next morning another familiar voice wakes him up, this time from inside the house, and Daryl can’t believe his ears, he jumps from the bed and runs out of the room, into the hall and down the stairs, still wearing his pajamas and everything.  

“Merle!” He shouts, when he sees his older brother standing by the back door in the kitchen, he runs and latches on to him, his skinny arms going around Merle’s middle.

“Hey there, baby brother,” Merle says, and he’s grinning when Daryl looks up at him, Merle ruffles his hair and he gets embarrassed. But he hasn’t seen him in almost two years, last his pa had gotten a letter, Merle had been in jail somewhere in Alabama.

Merle squats down, eye level with Daryl, and he chews on his lip, Merle always had a way of staring at you that made it feel like he knew every single last thing about you, even the bad things you never wanted to tell anyone about. “These Christian folk been treating you good?” He asks, and even though he sounds a little angry, Daryl still responds with the truth.

“Yeah, Hershel found me walking by the pond, y’know the one by the house? He gave me a ride back here.”

“What you needed a ride for? Couldn’t find your way back?”

Daryl brings his thumb up to his face, starts chewing on the cuticle, a nervous habit he’s had since he can remember, “It was pa…”

Merle grabs hold of Daryl’s shoulders, his grip tight, “He do somethin’ to ya?”

Daryl stays silent, he looks down at his sock covered feet, he doesn’t want his pa to get in any more trouble, and he doesn’t want Merle to go back to jail. But Merle has always had a bad temper too, and he tends to get mean when he doesn’t get his way.

“Answer me, boy!” Merle snarls, and Daryl almost starts crying, but he remembers that boys aren’t supposed to cry, so he just kinda breathes funny and he looks around the kitchen, both Annette and Hershel are standing by the sink, she looks sad and he looks too serious.

“Yeah,” he finally says, “he—he beat me real bad.”

“Goddamnit,” Merle curses, “Goddamn him—“

Hershel clears his throat, “He didn’t just hit him, your father tore up his back pretty bad, too.”

Merle is eleven years older than Daryl, and for as long as he’s known him, he’s _never_ seen Merle looking scared, not once, not even when the law came by to haul him off to juvie the first time, Merle had laughed in their faces and told Daryl to take care of himself. But now, as he stares into the face that looks so much like that uncle they met once, on his ma’s side, Daryl sees real fear in his eyes. His face has gone pale and Daryl gets a little nervous.

Without saying anything, Merle just spins him around, and raises his sleep shirt, he doesn’t have to wear the bandages anymore but the skin is still tender looking and pink. Hershel had told him that it would probably scar but that it didn’t matter because it was nothing to be ashamed of, he had scars of his own too and it didn’t make him any less of anything.

“I’m’a kill ‘im,” Merle growls, “I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch,” he says, and he stands, fists clenched, and even though Merle’s never hit him he steps back, curls in on himself because he doesn’t want anything bad to happen to his daddy or Merle and he’s starting to think that this is all his fault.

Annette moves to Merle’s side and grabs hold of his hand, “If you go, Daryl will have no one,” she says.

Merle wrenches his hand away, “You sayin’ you’ll put him out in the street if I leave?”

“No, but you’re his brother,” she responds, in that quiet way of hers.

“He’s a tough kid,” Merle says, “he can take care of hisself.”

Daryl wonders that if Merle really does go and do something stupid where will he be left, Merle is all he has, sure, the Greene’s are nice and all and they’ve been taking care of him but they’re not his family, his _kin_.

“He needs you, more than anyone,” Annette tells him, and Daryl is shocked to see tears in her eyes.

“Fuck,” Merle growls, “he can’t keep getting away with this shit.”

“Stay here, at least for the night, you can decide what to do tomorrow.”

“I don’t take charity from no one,” Merle responds, a sneer on his face.

“I have a fence that needs tending to, you can help with that if you want,” Hershel speaks up.

Merle scoffs, “Yeah, fine.”

Merle walks out the house and he follows after him. “You wasn’t lyin’ about these folks treatin’ you right, were ya?” Merle asks, plopping down to sit next to the barn where the horses were kept. He pulls out a pack of cigarettes and when the smell of smoke hits Daryl’s nose, he feels like laughing and crying all at the same time, he likes being at the Greene farm but he missed his brother so much. He sits down next to Merle, bringing his knees up to his chest, and his fingers pick at the hole on his pajama pants.

“Why you keep askin’ me that?”

Merle shrugs, “Seems to good to be true, ‘s all.”

“You still have your motorcycle?”

The older Dixon grins, a puff of smoke escaping his lips, “Y’remember Candy?”

Daryl nods. Candy had been Merle’s girlfriend before he got sent to the clinker, she had pretty red hair and always smelled real nice. She lived with her ma, a couple of streets over from the trailer they lived in before their mama burnt it to the ground, and she always used to bring Daryl chocolates whenever she came around. And Daryl used to try to hide his smile, and not make any jokes, because Candy was bringing him _candy_.

“Well, turns out she’s a mighty upstanding girl, kept my bike for me at her house. Didn’t even try to sell it off,” Merle tells him.

“That’s nice of her.”

Merle scoffs, “She wanted to get married, can y’believe that?”

“Did you knock her up?”

Merle lets out a cackle, his whole body shaking with laughter, he slaps his thigh and asks, “Where you hear that?”

Daryl shrugs, “I’unno.”

Truth was, Daryl’s daddy had always been going on and on about how he had gotten stuck with his mama because he had knocked her up with him and Merle. He used to warn Daryl, _Don’t ever let no sweet pussy trap ya, ya hear me boy?_

“Well I didn’t,” Merle says, taking a long drag off his cigarette, “knock her up, that is, she just fancies herself in love with ol’ Merle.”

Daryl’s not sure what that means. He had never really seen people loving on people till he came to the Greene farm, sometimes Hershel would kiss Annette in the kitchen and Shawn, Maggie, and Beth would make faces and tell them to stop but Daryl would sit there staring like an idiot, because he didn’t know you could be so gentle, so kind to your wife. And he’s seen how Beth goes around hugging everyone, she likes to hold hands and kiss everyone’s cheek, he’s still not so used to that. But from what he’s seen, he doesn’t think being loved is such a bad thing.

“And you don’t love her back?” He asks, squinting up at Merle.

His brother blows a puff of smoke, he doesn’t look mad, maybe just a little sad, but he still answers, “Nah.”

Daryl hears someone coming up and when he turns to look, it’s Beth. He’s never seen her look so shy before and his head whips around back to Merle only to find him looking confused.

“Hi,” Beth says, softly, “are you Daryl’s brother?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Merle responds, “‘m name’s Merle, and you are?”

“Beth, Hershel’s my daddy.”

Merle grins, “You been taking care of my baby brother?”

Daryl scowls because he can take care of himself but Beth nods, her cheeks turning pink. Merle laughs and Daryl elbows him in the ribs, he’s not a baby.

“You wanna help me feed the chickens?” Beth asks him.

“No,” Daryl responds, and he almost feels a little bad about the face Beth makes when he says that but he doesn’t appreciate being made fun of.

“Oh, okay,” she says, and starts walking towards the chicken coop.

“G’on boy, go help her,” Merle says, nudging him forward

“Don’t wanna.”

“When a pretty girl asks for help, you never say no,” Merle tells him, giving him a little shake.

Daryl rolls his eyes but gets up nonetheless. “You’re not going anywhere are you?”

His brother shakes his head, “Not without you.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen up y’all, young Michael Rooker was a cutie, and he keeps being handsome so 🤷♀️ 
> 
> Also, I feel like realistically speaking, Merle and Daryl would have been much closer in age than they had them portrayed in the series. Unless their mom got pregnant with Merle and their dad wasn’t a drunk yet till Daryl came along and then things started getting real bad. Idk the age difference is very stark between the two, and it doesn’t make sense that their dad would stay all those years in between the two brothers being born unless he was a real sadistic asshole that liked to see people suffer (which he was duh)

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea where this is going tbh. I wrote something else with a similar plot but Daryl will not get adopted in this story and it will be focused more on him. 
> 
> I find Daryl’s unexplored back story FASCINATING. To have grown up in that environment he described to Beth in Still, to have grown up with Merle as an older brother, and I know Merle was racist and totally un-pc but he was INTERESTING. The dynamic between him and Daryl has always drawn me in because they were siblings but Merle had also been Daryl’s father figure 😫😫😫 They killed him off way too soon and so that’s why I’m planning to include him a lot more in this story. Anyways, idk what I’m doing.


End file.
